The Frustration and Consolation of a High Functioning Sociopath
by Ollie-Ox
Summary: There were many things he had no clue about. There were a few things he knew very little about. Then there were the things he had extensive and accurate knowledge of. There was just one thing he simply couldn't understand: other human being's emotions. My name is Dr. John Watson and this absolute sociopath is my colleague- my friend- Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
1. Noting the Problem

_There were many things he had no clue about. He knew close to nothing about astronomy, literature, philosophy, he just had no desire to learn about it. There were a few things he knew very little about, such as politics (which was feeble at best), British law (however mostly practical), botany (but mainly of belladonna, opium, and poisons nothing of practical gardening), and geology(limited but all practical). Then there were the things he had extensive and accurate knowledge of. He had a great deal of knowledge about chemistry, anatomy, sen__sational novels (he knows many from the Victorian era and quite a number of newer realistic-fiction murder stories and novels), and playing the violin. There was just one thing he simply couldn't understand: other human being's emotions. He found it quite impossible to sympathize with someone, he didn't get why somebody would get upset over something he said, that in his opinion was perfectly reasonable, or how it could even remotely bother someone in the first place. Although he may be able to tell you exactly what your occupation is, how many dogs you have, if you haven't smoked your first cigarette today, or if you were off in a foreign country recently, he would undoubtedly be unable to tell a lick of your personality nor why it upset you (and still upsets you) so much that your cat passed away a year ago. My name is Dr. John Watson and this absolute sociopath is my colleague- my friend- Mr. Sherlock Holmes._

**1. Noting the Problem**

"Come now, John! Lestrade called, he wants us to come take a look."

"Let me grab my coat first!" I reply, groaning as I rose from my chair. I retrieved my coat and was right out the door behind Sherlock. He was putting on his favourite soft blue scarf as we left the flat and headed for the street.

We both already knew what the case was, because it'd been all over the news. A serial killer that leaves little notes on the doors or work desks of the people he intends to murder two night prior to the murder. The notes usually requests a response taped somewhere on the house at ten as a reply to the question asked on the note. So far these notes have said:

"I will pay you a visit in two nights, would you like me to bring you a slice of cake? If so then is chocolate cake all right? Leave me your answer at approx. 10pm tapped on your mailbox please. -S"

"I am coming to visit two nights from now, can we have tea? I'll bring the tea, do you prefer earl grey, or green tea? Leave your answer around 10pm taped below the window on the right side of your front door please -S"

"I'll see you in two nights, Would you play a game of chess with me over some coffee? Leave for me your answer at about 10pm on the right side of your house in the flowerbed, preferably tapped on the tallest sunflower -S"

Lestrade was waiting for us outside the house of the fourth victim. It was a suburban house on the outskirts of London, it looked small and inviting, but was now vacant. "Ah Sherlock, good to see you, I want you to meet someone," He began as we walked up to him

"I highly doubt whoever you introduce me to will spark any interest with me, Lestrade, you'd be wasting their time and breath."

"I'll let you decide that for yourself, she's a brilliant one she is," he turned and called out, "Hey, you there! Send me detective Trotter!"

A lovely petite young woman jogged into view. She looked a bit young, with a small pale round face, large eyes and rosy lips, dark brown ringlets framed her face. As she approached I noticed how much shorter she was than me. She was dressed in an oversized leather jacket and a plaid skirt with tights, boots and a back pack slung across one shoulder. As she rushed over her skirt and short jaw-length curls bounced and swayed making her seem like a first year high school student and not the full grown woman I would assume she is.

"Lestrade? You called me?" She had bright green eyes I noticed as she came up beside Lestrade. She made small gestures with her hands as she spoke in a Scottish accent, "I'll have you know, that, you can bet your coat and your boots that this 'ere murderer is most likely a shorter man or woman- although I am leanin' towards a man- with delicate hands, which applies to the reasoning behind the bruising pattern on the woman's arm, and the height where the note was placed," I liked they way she softly rolled her R's.

"Well I'm sure with Sherlock Holmes here assisting he should prove your assumption, right Holmes?" Lestrade looked at Sherlock and Miss Trotter's eyes followed. When she and Sherlock had caught each other's eye they examined each other but it seemed different. "By the way this is my best man, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson."

"Right..." Sherlock mumbled as his gaze swept over the tiny woman. He was undoubtedly deducing every tiny detail he could figure out about the girl.

Lestrade gave a swift, slightly forced smile then turned to Miss Trotter and said, "I know you're not the type to, but you wouldn't mind showing off a little for Mister Holmes here now would you?"

"Sure thing, don't see why not," then she really looked Sherlock up and down, studied him from his face down to his boots. "Can I see your hand?" Sherlock looked unamused but removed his glove and held out his hand which she took in her own much tinier hands, poked at his palm a bit and turned it over and back twice. "You sir, are probably a show off, but you show off using your brains though. A consulting detective as your job is an excellent choice, brain work and a chance to show off! I must admit you'd probably be an excellent actor if you we're not as developed in the mind area. But you also are quite stubborn at times, correct? Having set ways of doing certain things that you refuse to change unless proven wrong. You're also very graceful, but probably not overly friendly I suppose you don't have many friends do you?" Sherlock looked mildly surprised she was so spot on but not much.

"Obviously you've heard of me before Miss Trotter, so you must have known some things about me already, how about you tell us about my friend here, Doctor Watson?" One of Sherlocks hands rested on my shoulder, while the other gestured to me.

She smiled and said, "With pleasure Mister Holmes," before eyeing me up, whice made me feel more than a little uncomfortable. She also held out her petite hand and I gave her mine, which she examined in the same way she did Sherlock's. "You seem to be a strong type, very good at getting things done, you must be awfully bored when you've got nothing to keep you up and about, huh? You must love this field work, and you are a doctor which implies your previous occupation involved a lot of movement and hand work as well. You also seem to be fairly friendly. I'm also sure you must have times when you enjoy relaxing with a cake or biscuit and a cup of coffee or tea, but probably only if you had something else to keep you busy like reading, talking with company, or maybe watching something entertaining." I was shocked at how spot on she could be about some of the things she understood.

Sherlock gave me a small nudge and said quietly, "close your mouth, John, and remember what you said about staring." I straightened up, closing my mouth and looking down. Sherlock began to speak to her, "That display you just did was fairly impressive would you like me to say something about you?"

She gave him a bright smile and said "I'd love to hear that!"

Sherlock gave her a superior glance before stating "You're from Scotland, I'm guessing somewhere near Edinburgh judging by your accent. You arrived in London not too long ago based on the fact those appear to be your casual clothes and not the kind of clothes you wear to work, not to mention your hair is flatter in the back because the curls in the back were pressed flat against the seat on the train for the approximately four and a half hour train ride-" He began in a higher voice probably to represent hers "But Mister Holmes! How do you know that?- I will tell you how I know because, you have a backpack on, presumably with your personal items such as electronics or books, that don't go in luggage, because you used them on the train, and kept the bag by your feet. If you had driven here yourself you would not have a backpack but rather most likely a purse because those items would be in the car, and all you would need on you is things like your mobile phone and maybe your lipstick. Seeing as how you still are wearing it and it still looks fairly full implies Lestrade or one of the other officers must have taken you straight here from the train and you left your luggage in their car. That also in turn explains why you have not gotten the chance to notice your flattened curls and fluff them back up because you haven't gotten to the hotel yet to have a look in the mirror or change your clothes into work appropriate items. Is that sufficient?"

Miss Trotter looked impressed but then stated "But you've said nothing about _me_. Sure you may have been able to backtrack where I'm from and my morning but answer me this. Who is Jean Trotter and what is she like? How would you describe her personality, and what should I expect when I talk to her?"

Sherlock looked dumbfounded. "How do you expect me to know that just by looking at you?"

"How did I know you were a stubborn show off just by looking at you?" She retorted.

It was the first time I'd seen Sherlock appear so surprised and knocked off his pedestal. I mean I'm sure he had it coming since he acts so high and mighty all the time, but bloody hell, this girl who's about half his size just knocked the wind out of him with three questions he couldn't answer to save his life.

_**AN: **This will be a short-ish series, that will be updated as I finish the sections of it_


	2. 2 Stating the Problem

**2. Stating the Problem**

There had been something off about Sherlock. During the time at the house, he didn't get excited or have any outbursts. He was too quite. Lestrade, and Anderson kept looking at him, expecting _something_ to come out of his usually smart-ass mouth. To be honest I was surprised he let me in the same cab as him on our way home. For quite a while he would stare out the window then look at me, and turn away when I glanced back. I'd give a puzzled look in the direction of him and his stupid cheekbones, but gave up on trying to tell if he wanted something. It took him some time but eventually he asked, "John, how did she know?" His words came out much slower than usual, like he almost was uncertain if he could get them out.

"To be honest Sherlock, I don't know."

"But you must know, you understand people on personal levels don't you? You are normal after all,"

"I'm telling you the truth, I honestly don't know how she figured it out."

"But, how do you usually characterize someone?"

"Well I say, what their hair colour is, how tall they are, if their pleasant to be around. If you ask what they're like I'd tell you that they're nice, or obnoxious, or arrogant, or sickeningly sweet."

"John, that does not answer my question. I want to know what you base this on, because I honestly want to know. I'll make you a cup of tea once we arrive home in a moment and then we can further discuss this serious matter. But for now be quiet so I can think in peace." And that was that.

As soon as we arrived home he did just that, took my coat off for me and everything! I was actually quite impressed, he asked what kind of tea I preferred and made it excellently. He sat on the arm of my chair (like how one of my girlfriends used to when I brought her over for a bit for a cup of tea and a chat before Sherlock could scare her off) as I took a sip of my tea.

"Are you comfortable John? Can I resume asking you about behaviours and personalities?" I couldn't help but smile a bit as I sighed.

"Fine, fine, ask away. I'm not sure I'll have the answers you want though." he gave a small smile that I nearly missed before he got off the arm of the chair and sat in his usual spot across from me. I waited for his bombardment of questions. He usually doesn't even smile, he just smirks and grins when he finds something he said or did clever, or hilarious. Has he ever smiled like that before?

The going back and forth for hours was awful. Sherlock kept refilling my tea cup to get me to stay but he seemed to be unable to grasp what I was getting at. I tried my best to explain what makes someone nice or short tempered, but he just had more and more questions that usually just began with that stupid little word, "_why?"_ If I never hear that word again it wouldn't be soon enough.

"John, you don't understand I really can't grasp how others feel. I've already told you I'm a high functioning sociopath, its difficult to learn this sort of thing. I do appreciate your patience though." I rubbed my temples in slight frustration. "If you want we could resume this tomorrow?"

"We're probably going to see Miss Trotter again tomorrow. Maybe you should just ask her how she did it?"

"I highly doubt she would, why would you give the ace up your sleeve to the player beside you? That's how you ensure their victory and your loss. And that's what Miss Trotter and I are playing. She would never endanger her power over me- The great consulting detective Sherlock Holmes!- That would be foolish!"

"Sherlock, not everyone sees everything as some big competition, perhaps she'll be glad to tell you all about it over tea and biscuits!"

"John you're being ridiculous, there is no way she would." I couldn't help but sigh.

"Have a bit more faith in other human beings."

"I have faith in you, John," he said giving me a slightly overwhelming ogle. Well that was... unexpected, however he continued, "And you're letting me down. I expect you to know these things since I don't." I groaned a bit, because lets face it, someone is being slightly melodramatic here and its not me nor the skull.

"Well Sherlock how do you explain what you think someone's behaviours are like. Here, tell me what Lestrade is like?" Perhaps this will be a nice change of pace.

"Lestrade is tolerable. I don't dislike him. But he's not my favourite person in the world. Sometimes he is truly a complete idiot." Is this all he thinks of them? Classifies people based on how much he likes or dislikes them, and how intelligent they appear to him?

"What about me then?"

"You? You're John, I enjoy your company and sometimes you tell me I'm brilliant," He thought about it more "You are a good friend and a doctor, so you're very useful too..."

"That's actually... An opinion, but sort of right, using useful and all. Now I will say it was very... flattering, but none the less its mainly an opinion and a bit off from what you're going for," I didn't actually think I'd get that much out of him. He never seemed like he was thrilled about having me around all too much. Maybe he wasn't the sociopath that he claimed to be. However, who am I to try and pry into his emotions and see if he secretly has a tiny bit of compassion?

_AN: This should have a few more chapters so there can be some sort of climax to this story, and also to solve the case, and Sherlock's issues with his abilities_


End file.
